MY NAME IS CHIP. WEIRD SHIT JUST SORTA HAPPENS TO ME. THIS IS A SOME OF THAT SHIT.
After being accused of looking like a terrorist by an Icelandair desk agent, I have no choice but to purchase a second full priced ticket to Iceland. Felix, KY, Charlie and Sexy get on the Wednesday flight, I’ll spend the night in Boston and meet them in Reykjavik on Thursday. I call Desire in Chicago, he breaks into my apartment, gets my passport and overnight’s it to me in Boston.
A few years ago Felix, Charlie, their buddy Sexy, KY and I took our annual guys trip, this year we went to Iceland. What better way to escape the Chicago winters than by heading to ICELand in February, the unofficial home of hot chicks, 36 ounce beers, geysers, the Blue Lagoon and elves. (Seriously the Icelandic people think there are elves living in their yards.)
Like a typical college student, while I was at UD I never had any cash. So what did we do when we did have cash? We rubbed shit all over it.
I had my knee operated on last week from a hoops injury earlier in the summer. Instead of going the route of “traditional healing” I felt the need for something more. Thankfully I was listening to the Howard Stern Show a few weeks ago and Howard’s sidekick, Robin, went to visit Braco The Gazer. Braco is a pseudopsychic who heals people by gazing at them…. Who am I kidding? This whack job fucking stares at a room full of lunatics for 5 minutes and people pay $8 to to go see this shit. I could not think of a better way to spend my Saturday afternoon!
Every year for the first Friday of the NCAA Basketball tourney, me and all my scumbag friends will get together and watch the games. We skip work and get to the bar around 10am. Then we pretty much act all day like we are in still in college.
The day starts with an all-you-can-drink open bar and after 10 plus hours of drinking, it always ends exactly the way you think it does. We therefore refer to this Friday as “Black Friday.” This year Charlie decided to make the trip to Chicago for the annual debacle.
I wanted to start 2012 off BIG and no one I know is bigger than the KY Gentleman… if you know what I mean. He’s pretty sly for a white guy but you don’t get the nickname KY just because you’re from Kentucky. You get the nickname KY when KY is required. (In some circles he is also known as the Coke can.)
I have since changed my tune on Radiohead but in 2008 I wasn’t a believer in their hype. I thought they were playing crap music and trying to pass it off as art. Smells insisted I was insane and told me I had to check them out at Lollapalooza. Fine, what’s the worst that can happen?.
April 30, 2012
Chip
chipwrecks 